


A Bender Of Her Talents

by Abraxas (Qlippoth)



Series: Warped & Disturbed Avatar:TLA Crack Fic [9]
Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Awkward Sexual Situations, Crack, Don't Like Don't Read, F/M, Out of Character, Sibling Incest, Twisted
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-26
Updated: 2020-01-25
Packaged: 2021-02-27 05:41:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,414
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22411936
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Qlippoth/pseuds/Abraxas
Summary: A very very very AU/AR and OOC Katara is a whole other kind of bender - a cockbender - duties include comforting the males of the tribe when they get too, um, hormonally-challenged. Part of my Warped & Disturbed Crack Fic Series; please see series description and heed the warnings!
Relationships: Aang/Katara (Avatar), Katara/Sokka (Avatar)
Series: Warped & Disturbed Avatar:TLA Crack Fic [9]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1612828
Kudos: 29





	1. Chapter 1

Originally Published August, 11, 2007

* * *

Katara came back after another night's work. She set her coat upon a chair and, through the maze of crates and stashes, walked into the rear of the hut. She massaged her hands; they ached, nimble yet sore, they craved a night of rest. But as long as she was that tribe's bender it was her responsibility to do the job.

She took a lantern that dangled by a chain and set it atop a table by the mattress. 

Yes, if there was another girl, then the workload would not be so rough. But what could be done? Retire? Quit? Impossible! It had to be done. For tradition. For the stability of the tribe. Boys, of such need and of such virility, it would be a disaster to the social order and harmony if she failed. 

And, anyway, she liked it. No. She more than liked it.

The boys were so different and she enjoyed getting to know all of the details. The peculiarities. It was a very intimate thing despite its utilitarian and, even, its mechanistic nature. Any other ordinary girl would have grown tired of it but not Katara. 

She could not grow tired of it.

As if the titillation of the forbidden was not enough, it was the power of watching - making - the boys tremble and cry, almost like babies, while exposing their intimate and vulnerable moments.

Sokka was already in bed, in sleep. She did not want to disturb him but that could not be helped. The ruckus of her stripping out of her clothes, crawling into that mattress, startled the teenager.

"Sorry, Sokka," she said. She kissed his cheek which blushed.

"You're back," he said, half in and out of sleep.

"Yeah, hm, I thought you'd be awake for me," she teased.

"Well, I was, then I quit," he replied, folding his arms behind his head. After everything that passed between them, again and again, he did not know why he could be so awkward around her. Maybe it was the bending? Maybe he feared she compared him to the rest of the boys? "So, how was work today?"

"Five. Just five."

Katara settled her head onto her pillow. She thought about that moment she realized the gift. She remembered being a bit scared and thrilled. She was twelve, he was sixteen. Her mother chose the boy because of his temperament. Gentle. He would be understanding, her mother said, when she brought the two into the hut. It seemed like forever watching him remove his pants: he said he was nervous, too, but he was erect when he revealed his penis and she knew - from what her mother said - that he would have to be excited for that part of his body to be so big and hard.

_"Wow," she gasped when he finally presented himself. "What am I supposed to do with that?"_

_  
_

The boy blushed as he kneeled.

Those were the strangest parts of a body she ever saw. And they appeared to be huge but she was not afraid. She thought it was funny the way his penis bobbed up and down and the way his sack was scrunching.

"It's cold but it's OK," he said, trying to explain why his sack was shrinking like that. "You can warm them, you know, with your hands."

Instinctively she reached and palmed his testicles. The skin was lined with ridges and dotted with hairs and though it felt weird it was not unpleasant. She watched and felt his gonads pressing against his body. She giggled as she massaged the two, little ball like things.

"Is that better, Koga?" Katara asked, looking up into his deep, blue eyes. She never thought she could be that close and personal with a boy! And he was becoming cuter and cuter the more she explored him.

"Your hands are so nice, Katara," Koga moaned. "I'd love to feel them all over my cock!"

She blushed - to call it a cock in front of a girl! It was so forbidden.

Katara could not remember the way she touched his penis - her very first penis - just that it was so smooth and so hard. It throbbed like crazy and felt it stiffen within her grasp. It was beautiful, especially its tip. The foreskin that cloaked its head.

He did not have to prompt her. It was as if she had been born with the knowledge. The way she pinched his tip. And massaged his head through his foreskin. And tapped the deep purple flesh slowly being exposed by the retreating hood - a water oozed out of that.

"I am so swollen," he whined like he was pained.

"Does it hurt?" she asked, suddenly concerned that the experience was not pleasurable.

Katara gazed at Koga's face, it was priceless the way he looked: eyes wet, cheeks red, features contorted as if he were holding back something.

_"It only hurts when you don't touch it," he stammered._

"Hm." Sokka looked at Katara. "Daydreaming? You must be tired!"

Stunned out of the trance, she looked at her brother and smiled. "What is it?"

"Nothing, er, I mean - if you are too tired?"

"It's just my hand that's sore."

Katara blushed. She did not resist when Sokka pulled away the blanket. He was not naked but the arousal could be seen through the undergarments.

Sokka stripped and Katara stared. She saw his penis standing almost straight. Its shaft was smooth and its head was covered by foreskin. Shoots of curly, black hairs dotted its base. And though she could not see it she knew his scrotum was tight.

"It's just as fun if you just watch," he said - and she recalled other boys, too, getting excited, growing erect, and ejaculating all over themselves just by letting her get a peak of what they hid between their legs. "There's nothing wrong with a guy showing a girl how she makes him feel."

"Nothing wrong at all." She kissed his cheek and wrapped her arm under his head. "It's always, quite, flattering."

He gripped his erection and retracted his foreskin.

She giggled, remembering how she rolled back Koga's foreskin - that was when he could not resist anymore.

_Koga took Katara's hand and wrapped it about his shaft: stroking, rubbing, she practice how to roll his foreskin up and down his head while he was shivering, shaking._

_  
_

"I can't help it, I guess, it's too intense." He moved her hand from his penis to his sack. "Here, let me show you."

_Displaying his penis through different angles and positions, he show her how he stroked, he revealed the secret that up to that moment only the boys knew._

But now she knew! And what she knew! The boys could not hide anything, really, everything was out in the open. She knew what they did and how they did it and why they did it: for that one, single moment of climax when they could not stop or control what their bodies were about to do.

She knew all about that pleasure and how much they craved it and she loved that she kept such power over the boys!

Katara watched fascinated by the little, easy to miss motions of Sokka's stroking. Things like how his foreskin covered then exposed his head, how it scrunched up under the rim of that violet helmet, how that clear, sticky fluid oozed like water out of his tip. And the sound of the flesh moving back and forth mixing with the whining of her brother. 

Truth was that she loved watching the boys masturbate: there were so many techniques and she wanted to know about each and every one of them. It took her such a long time to master the very basic motion. Those poor teenagers suffered many a raw and swollen penis just because she lacked that rhythm. But she got the timing right eventually and when she felt her hand soak with semen she knew she was ready for the job.

Sokka was writhing. He was stroking so fast his hand was a blur and his penis seemed to be even bigger and harder than usual. He spread his legs, his toes curling. Katara knew he was about to climax. 

With her free hand she grasped his sack. Just the feel of her palm against his tight, throbbing balls was all it took to send him over the edge. He squirted a wad of semen that splashed against her face. She held his shafted and stroked his tip until he dribbled the last of the load. But she kept stroking, giggling at the shaking and squirming boy, and he stopped the torture by clasping his hands over her fingers.

"You are so good at what you do," he gasped. Exhausted, his exposed skin was a deep, hot red.

She blushed while whipping away the semen with a cloth.

"You did the heavy work. I watched mostly," she said, hugging him.

"That would have been enough for me. Hey, it doesn't bother you, does it? When I ask you for a job?"

"No, not really, no. It's just a job I do. Just because you're my brother doesn't mean anything; you're still a boy who needs it." She dug her elbow into his side. "And, besides, you have the most adorable nut sack I've ever seen."

"Yeah? You think so?"

"Just go to sleep, Sokka, you must be tired after squirting that all over me."

"Sorry about that," he laughed, "I was - well, I really, really needed it. Katara?"

It was another job well done for the cock-bender and now, at last, she slept.

"Hm," he mumbled, "that's awkward, huh?"


	2. Chapter 2

Originally Published August 12, 2007

* * *

"What, you can't do it?" Sokka protested.

"I can't do it!" Katara insisted. "Mother said it's wrong."

Frustrated, he tumbled onto the floor and sat lazing defiantly, stubbornly. He rested his face against his hand and watched while she busied about the hut. It was a cold, winter night and there was much to do before sleep. Yet, instead of helping, as she worked he sighed - obnoxiously - if just to illicit reaction.

"It's just a cock," he said, meekly.

"Sh!" she scolded, sternly.

He persisted: "It's just a cock, Katara, you know." He grabbed his crotch and emphasized his bulge with a thrust. "Like all of the other cocks you've seen. What's the big deal, anyway?"

Sister knelt by brother, trying to sooth and comfort with a hug. 

She repeated: "Mother said it's wrong."

"It isn't fair." Just then his tone of voice betrayed his fourteen year old maturity. "Who do I go to for a job? You're the only cock-bender! Just my luck, I guess, it had to be my sister. So awkward. But I need it, damn it, just like the rest of the boys."

"Can't you do it yourself?" She could not help but gaze at his bulge. It was blatantly tented. The smell of semen was fresh. "You're still unsatisfied?"

"When I do it, it isn't intense, it doesn't satisfy." He took her fingers and placed her palms atop the peak of his bulge. "I need a bender's magic touch."

She withdrew quickly though for that instant of contact she savored the feel of his glans.

Katara sat by Sokka, resting her head against his shoulder, looking down at that place between his legs. It was a cock, like any other cock, so what if it was her brother's cock?

She palmed his bulge and pressed it into his shorts until the outline of his erection vanished. Then she let it go. Then it popped up, again, as firm and as throbbing as ever.

It felt and worked and acted like every other cock, so what if it was wrong?

The boy remained quiet, letting the girl do what ever she wanted to do with his body.

She cupped his genitals through the fabric of his shorts.

The tribes used to be violent and warred with each other for centuries. The enlightened explored the world, seeking a better way to live and finding guidance among the animals. It was a wise choice, after all, nature seemed to be at peace with itself. A legend among benders of Katara's talent was that when her female ancestors watched the apes, they uncovered a race that lived in total, complete harmony. Within that community, they noted that young adolescent males - who they knew were the volatile and trouble making aggressors - were placated. Their violence was curbed and their behavior was controlled by females who used their urge for pleasure against them.

Thus was Katara's type of bending discovered and through millennia it was applied to men by women and to boys by girls until the tribes reached a state of tranquility.

"Why would you want your sister to do it?" she wondered, speaking after moments of silence.

He mumbled, sleepily, groggily: "I don't want you to do it as my sister; I want you to do it as the cock-bender."

She shook her head and rolled her eyes: "How can you not realize that it's me anyway? Is that need to do it so strong? Sokka?"

"Of course, I'm a growing teenage boy." He enjoyed saying that word, 'growing'. "You see it all of the time!"

"So, I'm just a hand to you, huh?" She squeezed his bulge, teasingly.

"Yeah! And I'm just a cock to you." He squirmed, blushing and giggling.

With one, expert move she revealed his penis.

Now, at last, he groaned and gasped.

It was not the first time Katara saw Sokka naked. Growing up, the two of them bathed and changed and, often, slept together. Whenever she looked - to compare - his penis and scrotum were like a bunch of little, fleshy bumps. They looked like they would be neat to touch and she wondered if the sight of them was the cause of her fascination with males but nothing came of it. 

Looking at them now it was obvious they had been growing a lot and not just because he was extremely hard then and there. There had been changes! His penis was a dark, brown color, its base was dotted with hair, its front was smooth and its back was rough with a long, vertical seam extending from his sack to his tip. His scrotum was of a rough and ridged texture different from the smooth and silky skin that surrounded it.

But his testicles were tight and pressed against his body and looked just like the little, fleshy curves she remembered they used to be.

It was so adorable she could not help but fondle about the skin of his sack.

She grasped his shaft with both hands - the tip of his erection poked through her interlocked fingers - and forced back his foreskin and exposed the glans of his penis.

"What do you get out of it?" she asked, curiously.

"What do you mean?" he asked, confused. It was hard to think with such sweet, lovely fingers exploring everything.

"Aren't the feelings the same if it's you touching yourself?"

"No."

The words were not easy but Sokka stammered out an explanation: "When a group of us learned how to cum ... we met, at night ... we stroked each other.... It was different when it was another hand ... it's ... it's ... exciting. It was nice when it was a friend. It must be awesome if it's a cock-bender's hand!"

"I'm not that good yet." Katara blushed while she tickled the boy between his legs.

He put his arm around her waist and whispered: "I trust you."

She molested him and, again, he remained still. She worried she was not doing it right. She thought about Koga - that poor boy's cock almost bled the first time she massaged it into orgasm. But Sokka did not wince, in pain, and after a few, forceful thrusts there was a contortion of his face that was becoming more and more familiar among the boys she pleasured. Yes, she smiled happily, she found a rhythm and let his throbbing guide her stroking.

The art of "cock bending" - as the boys always called it - was refined through the ages so that it would be like a ritual. That way the boy received pleasure and the girl kept control. Nothing more than mutual, Platonic friendship was allowed to develop beyond the job because that was how mechanical and artificial that act was supposed to be. 

Indeed, Katara's bending was no different than helping a friend with a chore.

But there was something wrong with giving her brother a job.

Still. Sokka. It was not fair to deprive him of what his peers received freely. 

It was not fair because it was not their fault their mother birthed mixed sex children. It was the custom that benders of that talent produced only female offspring but war with the fire nation and isolation between the North and South Pole meant there needed to be more children from more people and, so, the rule had to be broken.

And if one rule could be broken, could not another be overlooked?

Katara's hands were wet with that clear, sticky fluid. Instinctively she stopped her stroking and cupped his scrotum. By then his sack was so scrunched it did not dangle any longer. Only his two, little glands poked through the skin and she was careful when she touched them that she did not hurt them. They were vulnerable and it was weird but exciting to be able to hold them like that.

She knew by the way his testicles throbbed that the moment of climax was approaching. 

Katara stopped and stared at the sight. It was a cock but it was not like any, other cock. All of the cocks she saw were different: different shapes, different textures. Already she knew how to tell boys apart just by how their foreskins varied. Sokka's penis did not lack peculiarities and she wanted to study them, to remember them, that way to know what he looked like when about to orgasm. It was such a thrill for her to know those secrets about the boys she pleasured.

Gazing at his penis it seemed to be so helpless, wanting and begging for more and more touch. At last even she could not resist the urge. And without realizing it she broke yet another, unspoken rule: she kissed that swollen, purple head.

She licked the length of his head and he trembled as if he was squirting already. She rubbed the back of his foreskin against the lips of his slit while she continued to kiss and tongue about his tip. His shaking became more random and more violent. Then he stiffened and sat up, straight. While she licked and stroked he bit his lip to keep the gasp stifled and with a shiver that caused his knees to quake and his hips to buck his penis released its treasure of seed.

A wad of cum dribbled into Katara's hand. It was more water than semen; its streaks of creamy, white color looked like the Milky Way of the summer's night sky. That was the whole, entire orgasm Sokka's body produced.

"I can't believe all of that huffing and puffing was just for this little bitty thing?" she teased. Although she was somewhat disappointed. After the way he was reacting with ejaculating she thought there would be a boat load of semen.

"Was that your prize, Katara, wow," he said, apologetically. "That was fast. It must haven that magic touch of yours."

"Yeah, well, you were really very excited." She wiped away the semen with a cloth. "I thought you were about to make a mess all over the place." She watched his penis deflate and retreat into his shorts - even flaccid he was the biggest boy she played with. "You were touching yourself all day, weren't you?"

"That was the fourth time I came today."

"Hm, maybe I should be doing it for you...."

Sokka smiled and leaned into Katara.

It would be their secret.


	3. Chapter 3

Originally Published August 15, 2007

* * *

Koga arrived after Sokka left; the hut's young teenage boy would be away that weekend while learning to camp and fish. Silent by the door, aware and nervous about the imbalances of the sexes, the fully grown male stood between the mother and daughter. Koga's awkwardness was worsened by the tent at the front of his pants that he could not hide. 

"Well," the old woman said when she noticed the young man's bulge, "you are ready tonight. Why don't you take him into my room, Katara?"

Koga did not speak and only nodded, approvingly, when he caught the woman gazing up and down his body. The girl took his hand and led him into the back of the hut. The mother remained by the entrance to do the chores. And to field interference in case any unexpected visitor dropped by.

At the bedroom a mattress had been formed already and eagerly awaited that night's lesson.

For a moment the two just gawked at each other almost unaware of what to do next.

"Hi," Katara said, at last, breaking the ice with a smile.

"Hi." Koga smiled too. "Is it strange to be nervous?"

"You too?" She touched his naked, unflexed arm, catching a feel of flesh that though not forbidden was as arousing as the hidden, private parts of his body.

"It' weird." He wrapped his arms about her waist and hugged; his tent pressed firmly into her belly. "It's not like there are any, secrets, between us."

She savored the feel of his raw and wild hardness.

Katara sat at the edge of the mattress, shifting her eyes from Koga's deep, blue eyes to the front of his pants and his bulge. She thought it was adorable that he could not hide it. Whenever he was excited and got big and hard he could not help but deal with the fact that everything was out in the open. She imagined it was that way for all of the boys.

"You didn't tell Sokka yet?" He took off his shirt. "Katara?"

She gazed up into his eyes; her heart raced at the sight of those exposed parts of his body and at the thought of what remained covered.

"No," she answered. "He suspects. And I hope he will be OK with it."

Katara looked between Koga's legs as he undid the front of his pants. She put her fingers atop his hands and tugged. He obliged and inched so close her breath brushed against his crotch.

"You think it's wrong you get jobs from your friend's sister?" she teased.

"A little." He laughed, stopping to catch a breath. "Not wrong but weird."

"Don't worry about it." She held his hands and squeezed. "It's supposed to be a professional relationship."

Their fingers fluttered about the buttons of his fly; his tent throbbed obnoxiously as it was uncovered bit by bit.

"Is that why you didn't come by yesterday?" she asked while clutching the ends of his belt.

"No." He held her hands and pressed her palms against his skin that his fly exposed. He felt her fingers stroke about the base of his penis. "It hurt after we met. My penis." He blushed. "My foreskin was swollen. I guess you were stroking it too long."

"Awww!" She wrapped her arms about his hips and hugged. "I'm sorry, Koga, it's because I'm not doing it right, isn't it?"

"Heh," he chucked. He patted the top of her head. "You need to practice. You will be better."

"I don't like that I'm hurting you." She sighed, squeezing his butt cheeks through the back of his pants. "I want you to feel good."

Koga let Katara's hug linger - and let his fingers comb through her hair.

"I feel good." He smiled, dropping his touch from head to shoulder. "Especially when you're playing with it. And you stroke it OK a lot but you need to practice."

She dunked her hands into the back of his pants. She loved the feel of his skin, all of his skin, everywhere. It was so smooth and so strong. She wondered what it would be like to have his skin touching her skin, naked and rubbing all over each other. It was such a fantasy she pleasured her body with the thought of it. 

She felt guilty about it because her mother said there were rules that could not be broken. Still, was there anything wrong with getting something out of the job? She already loved what boys kept between their legs - and that was to be expected - but why would it be forbidden if she loved the rest of their bodies? Why would it be wrong to give them a bit of individual treatment?

Katara could not accept the idea that a bender of her type had to be cold and impersonal about the job - the boys needed to be satisfied by a girl not a machine!

After an eternity of silence and inaction she withdrew and looked into his wide, wet eyes.

"So is it hard?" she asked.

He laughed and replied: "It was hard the moment I saw you again. Your mother saw it. I couldn't hide it."

She giggled and tugged at his pants, inching them lower and lower. "But - it must be soft every now and then."

He smiled while his pants fell and crumpled about his ankles.

Koga stepped out of the garment and stood in front of Katara as naked as if birthed then and there. It was a very tender and vulnerable moment; he would have covered if it had been any other girl watching but, fighting the embarrassment and fear of judgment, he forced his hands to be by his genitals as though begging an investigation. An examination of his shaft, erect and pointing upward while throbbing, of his sack, scrunched tight and tight and rough and vanishing almost melting into his body.

"I think I won't see a soft cock ever," she sighed.

"I'd love to show you, if you wanted to see that, but - I would be hard by the time I took off my pants," he confessed, blushing and not hiding it.

"Don't wear pants," she plead.

"I'd always be hard." He smiled, his crisp, azure eyes twinkled. "You do that to me, Katara."

"I make you hard? I make you excited, huh?" she prodded, grabbing his butt and urging him nearer, closer.

"Of course," he added, struggling against racing, aroused pulse, "I can't help getting hard just thinking about you."

"I'm flattered." She blushed and, oddly, tried to hide her face from his eyes. "I didn't think I was that good."

Katara palmed about Koga's sack, stretching and massaging its skin, freeing it out of the darkness into the light. She cupped it between her hands. She bounced its two, tiny balls as if weighing the boy's worth.

"That's awesome, oh, oh, that's awesome!" he gasped while watching her play and grin.

"You like being held by the balls, huh?" she teased, looking toward his eyes and catching his face contorted, his lips curled. "Like that?"

"I don't mind," he spoke through a tight, bitten lip. "As long as it's a pretty girl abusing it."

"You and things you say!" She smiled while her words mixed with her contact made the throb of his penis go severe and uncontrollable. She giggled as his muscles flexed as his erection pulsed. "It's like you can't help it, Koga."

"That?" She nodded as he pointed at his shaft that swung up and down. "That - a little. It feels better if I don't, though, it's fun to show you."

Katara caught the length of his penis. As she held the shaft she felt how it tensed and relaxed. She noticed how his foreskin was not covering his head completely; that its rim was swollen, that its hold was retracted, exposing the deep, rough purple beneath. With her thumb and finger she retracted it further to expose his glans then she drew the flesh into a punch just beyond his tip. She let it go and it rolled away and he moaned and groaned. She repeated the motion and he repeated the involuntary, biological reaction.

"I'll shoot, oh, ah, oh, I'll shoot - I mean it - if you keep doing that," he said, struggling through the pleasure that swirled about his mind. "Oh my god, wow!"

"Hm." She stopped and asked: "Too fast, Koga?" He nodded, grinning and tearing. "It's not what I'm supposed to practice but it's fun anyway."

"Yeah - but we can do that after." He stopped, too, to catch his breath wipe away the sweat. "And I don't want to make a mess all over your clothes."

Koga turned putting his back to her face. Katara reached for his cheeks and squeezed. He spread his legs and she saw the roundness of his sack dangle. Then, suddenly, his penis pointed downward and pressed his testicles out into view just under the crack of his ass.

"That doesn't hurt?" she asked, knowing how difficult it was to get his shaft to point anywhere but upward when erect.

"It's OK," he reassured and teased: "Wanna touch it?"

Katara did not hesitate: she reached between the back of his legs and tickled what she saw of his genitals. Koga laughed and struggled against prickly feel of her fingers touching his skin then gave up and let go - his penis bounced against his stomach. But she did not relent and continued to fondle his body; holding, cuddling him from behind, her face was against the crack of his butt, her lips were wetting it with saliva.

When she felt his tip ooze that water she stopped. He sat by her upon the mattress. She leaned against him, again hugging him from the back. He spread his legs and she grasped his boyhood. She stroked, noting how it throbbed and pulsed, feeling that mix of rough, sensitive glans with foreskin rub against her palm and watching his head thrash back, hearing his grunts and heaves. 

"That feels so good, so good, oh my god," he mumbled again and again.

After a while he stopped wincing and she felt his erection soften.

"Hm," Katara sighed. "I'm doing it wrong again."

"You had the rhythm," Koga said. "Let me try something."

He put his right hand atop her left hand. He stroked but it was her grip that rubbed. It was awkward until they learned how to cooperate. She let herself be guided and noticed how he increased the speed to keep up with the throbbing of his penis. And how the flexing of his shaft lasted longer and longer and seemed to be getting harder. Those were the clues about tempo and rhythm she knew she needed to know if she was ever to be a satisfier of boys.

Eventually the pleasure of the act became too great and he released his grip though she kept stroking, tweaking and rubbing.

"Faster, faster," he gasped.

Katara felt the boy's penis stiffen and become the biggest, hardest thing ever. Koga tensed then shivered, suddenly, shaking as if caught in the cold of winter. And, without realizing why - because she kept gazing into his eyes - her hand became very wet and sticky.

"Keep, keep going," he stuttered, "ah, oh, keep going."

While stroking, faster now than before, she looked down and saw that his penis and her hand glistened with semen - it was gushing out of his tip.

"Wait!" He grabbed her hand to stop her motion. "OK, heh, heh, I stopped. Yeah."

But she squeezed and continued to rub her thumb and finger across his glans and the action brought a few violent thrusts from the boy who winced almost like an animal.

"Wow!" she almost shouted and caught it. "That was so awesome, that was so god damned awesome!"

"Yeah," he blushed. "I finally came in your hand. In the cock-bender's hand."

She smiled and kissed his cheek, by his ear. She wrapped her arm about his waist and hugged. Her hand and now his stomach were wet with semen.

"Thanks," she whispered, "for letting me."

"You're thanking me?" he asked. He seemed to be too exhausted to sit upright and held onto the girl. "You made me feel like a man," he confessed, turning several shades of red.

"Awww!" Again she kissed his cheek, by his eye. 

She watched his penis deflate. Small and soft, it fit neatly into her palm. It was sticky and exuded a strange though not unpleasant scent. 

"Can we do it again?" He gasped then laughed. "After you make, more, I guess."

"Give me a little time," he said. "So it won't be sore tomorrow."

She produced a cloth from the bottom of the mattress and used it to dry his genitals.

"Mom taught me about this trick," she explained about the towel. "You boys make such a mess."

She flung the now shiny cloth away.

Koga laughed and lay back atop the mattress. Katara resumed the exploration of his genitals. His shaft and sack were so silky she could not get her hands off of them. She wanted to know his every last detail, to remember all of his anatomy. Until at last there would be nothing intimate about the boy that she did not know completely.

"Katara," he said while she poked and prodded, "I know we're supposed to be just friends no matter what."

"Yeah, I know," she said, stopping her eyes' and fingers' expedition.

"But, yeah, you're my first girl." He sighed. "I mean - I showed it off a few times but you're the first who saw everything."

Katara blushed.

"I know what you mean." She lay back with him, side by side. "You're my first boy, Koga, and I got this crush," she confessed. "I really, really like your eyes."

"Yeah?" He blushed and wrapped his arm about her waist. 

"Just don't tell my mom." He nodded. "Hey, you want to help us with a few chores? It's not a lot but the stuff is heavy."

"Sure, I'll help." He sat up and reached for his pants. "Let me get dressed."

Through the lamplight she saw his penis uncoiling, growing longer and harder. Then and there she realized that not only did he feel like a man but she felt like as if, at last, she became what she was destined to be. And as he tried and failed to hide his bulge under his pants, as he dressed eager to return the pleasure with a favor, she understood the power that talent gave her over all of the boys. And she knew she loved being a cock-bender!


	4. Chapter 4

Originally Published June 14, 2010

* * *

The wreckage was encased by ice except at the deck - it was exposed and aged. The great antarctic sheet that surrounded the vessel resembled a desert. The battleship itself, its frame, its body, as unnatural as it was added a touch of sterility atop of that environment.

That afternoon, while fog clung onto the deck, Katara and Aang climbed aboard. The girl held a lantern while the boy paced everywhere exploring everything. Together they gravitated toward the rear of the vessel where a hatchway gaped to reveal a passage through the interior.

"Are you sure it's safe, Aang?" Katara asked while struggling through the fog.

"It should be," he replied without a look at the girl. "It's been ages and ages since it was used. What could be the harm?"

"What about traps?" she continued - reaching and holding onto the boy's jacket. "We were forbidden to approach it. There probably is a reason why...."

Aang did not answer - instead he jostled the hatch, waving, urging her to come closer.

"You ARE adventurous!" Katara said genuinely astonished at Aang.

Beyond the hatch was a corridor filled with darkness and shadow. Lamplight revealed steps winding deep into the battleship. They looked at each other and nodded - despite everything they went too far to turn away without a peek. Maybe the fear of it was unfounded? The two descended conscious that their step echoed sharply within that silence. They could not deny the eerie feel of doom emitted by that corpse of a ship. It had been preserved perfectly that it seemed as if the crew only just abandoned ship yet it was utterly lifeless ... neither the snow nor the howl of the wind penetrated its veil.

He found her hand and squeezed her palm.

All of a sudden there was a hint of fear tainting his recklessness.

At the base of the stairwell there emerged a passage that snaked through the body of the wreckage.

"After a hundred years of abandonment I think the traps ... well ... what could have survived that long?" Aang thought aloud.

"It must be a hatchway," Katara said of the cold as ice metal. She grasped a handle and turned it. It clicked and the doorway slipped and swung. A chamber with a portal was revealed - bright noon daylight illuminated stacks of cots and tables with chairs. Little beyond that was left to reflect the life of the crew.

"Ah!" he sighed as he jumped onto a cot.

"Don't tell me you're tired...." she half-stated, half-asked. Katara set the lamp atop a table and removed her gloves. Then her coat. The vessel was, oddly, warm like the inside of an igloo. "I guess we walked a long, long way to get here."

"Yeah, this is a great retreat," Aang smiled and leaned back. And fell back. "Er!" jumped out of it and onto a cot that held his weight. "We ought to come by a lot. Hm ... maybe tell scary stories at night."

"Hm ... maybe ask Sokka to bring you next time," she teased, sitting in front of him on a chair next to the cot. "We shouldn't stay ... I need to return by sunset."

Aang opened an eye, arched a brow at Katara: "You got a date with Koga?"

"No," she replied, quickly, anxiously.

"Ha! You do!" he teased.

"Ha! I do not!" Katara glared.

"It's so so obvious," Aang smiled.

"Sokka's telling you stories." She crossed her arms and looked at the portal - the fog swirling across its glass. "I got a job to do ... that's all."

"What kind of job," he asked.

"Well...." She paused to think about it. It was her job. It was a part of their culture, as normal as anything, yet not discussed with strangers. It would be ridiculous to explain it. Weren't boys able to take care of it themselves, she asked herself when GranGran told her about it. No. No. Not the way a cock-bender took care of it. "I got a very special talent and I help others with it."

"Are you a bender?" he asked excited by the idea of it.

"Yes. No." Again she hesitated. "When boys are a little older than you and a little younger than men, well, they get into a situation ... it's not a problem, really, it's just that I can help them with it."

"They get into trouble?" he was confused by the roundabout and vague way she was describing it.

"They might if I didn't help." She smiled - then leaned toward the Avatar. "When boys start to grow, their bodies change and their bodies start to work funny. They can't always control it."

"Hm ... that's kind of scary." He sat up, legs dangling off the edge of the cot. "The monks didn't tell me anything about my parts not working right."

"It's OK." She hugged the boy. "It's nothing to be sacred about at all. It's actually a very beautiful thing." She blushed. "I think so anyway. But it could be frustrating for boys and I help them with it."

"How?"

Katara paused. Aang was a boy close to that age. Could it be that he was getting erect now? Right there and then? Was that why he wanted to come that out of the way place? And back again and again - to be alone with her?

"Aang," she said, then, just lowered her hand onto the area in front of his lap between his legs. He reached with a shock but he did not back off. "There. That - that part of you." She traced the outline of his penis then rubbed that part where his glans connected his shaft with the tip of her fingers. It was about the size of finger and did not seem to stir - was she wrong about his state of development? "It's starts to grow."

"Oh, yeah, I figured that out."

"It gets hard?"

His face lit with a look of panic: "You know about that?"

She smiled, warmly, and held his hands: "Yes, it's part of my tradition. I'm a cock-bender...."

A few moments of silence passed. He on the edge of the cot. She on the edge of the chair. He reached toward her hair and combed her lengths as if it was exotic. She traced the outline of his arrow across his brow - up his scalp - down his neck. He giggled at the touch made ticklish by the teasing of that exploration. She gave the boy a little kiss.

Katara removed Aang's jacket - then parted the top of his robes to reveal his shoulders then his back. She did not know any other boy outside of the tribe. He was so ... so different. The lightness of skin was intoxicating. The blue arrow tattoos along his body were amazing.

Aang blinked suddenly aware of the tent that threatened to reveal itself through his jacked across his lap. He was panting while she was exploring his body, feeling a curious mixture of nervousness and excitement. He really really wanted to be alone with the girl - just the sight of that gorgeous native Katara with the sweetest bluest eyes awoke a memory buried by time.

The poles were not places he visited but way back when he and Gyatzo travelled north where he nursed from the breast of a chief's daughter's nursemaid. It was the beginning of a desire awakened by women. Gyatzo stoked the flame by his teaching. That love was to be given freely. That desire was to be enjoyed. Nothing about life should be denied.

He wanted to see Katara's breasts.

"Katara," he spoke breathlessly, thinking more with his growing lust than with any kind of reason. "Let me see your nipples."

The girl smiled and the boy could have died. Aang feared a slap or worse would have followed. Katara reacted the way he dared not imagine.

"That's just too adorable...."

She parted the top of her parka. Her breasts were those of a teenager, growing yet plump. They were about the size of the cups the boy made of his hands which quickly found their way fondling the girl. Their skin touched, the contrast of their tones and warmth spreading about their flesh added an intensity to an already intimate act.

She giggled as he blushed, his face and chest turning deep shades of red. She leaned and pressed his face between her breasts. She continued to stroke the designs etched into his scalp while he kneaded and groped the contours of her chest.

"We're not supposed to let the boys get that close ... but you're so damn cute ... and it must be driving you crazy down there." She reached through the clothes and located the tip of his very pronounced and hard erection. "You grew a lot." She raised and kissed his lips - and felt his cock twitch as his body shivered. "I made you happy didn't I?"

"Yes," he struggled to speak and breathe. "You're ... just ... amazing Katara."

She flung the jacket and stared at the tent beneath.

"Show it to me," she said softly.

He untied the belt and dug into the folds of the robe.

"You won't make fun of it?" he asked meekly.

Katara kissed Aang to reassure the boy.

He yanked it free and it remained cradled by his palms only a moment. She smothered it with a frenzy of touch. The tween air-bender's cock was just the width of her fist and very, very hard. To her amazement (and shock) there was a blue arrow tattooed from the base to the tip. She rubbed the end of the arrow along the foreskin which a swollen hot head beneath was retracting.

"You poor, poor thing," she said, kissing the tip, watching it twitch and swell. "That hurt, didn't it, when you got those tattoos...."

"I don't remember. I was a baby at the time," he said, fondling her hair, again, then her ears, then her lips, anything to keep busy. 

"A baby...." She could not imagine the cruelty and smothered his cock against her face, stroking its length as if to console a pain it did not feel or know anymore. A tear welled at the corner of her eye. She angled it downward and held it against her chin - the arrow forming a line of blue from her head to his groin.

He took it and raised it up, brushing the delicate frilly edge of his foreskin and tip to her lips, urging her kiss without a word.

She kissed his cock from base to tip and back and forth and back. His head leaked its own salty drop. His fingers explored about the buds of the tits trying to commit to memory their textures. Meanwhile she rubbed along his length, massaged his head through his skin, and explored seam along the underside of his dick attempting to make permanent each and every detail.

Like the way his skin felt smooth there and hard there. The way his foreskin felt warm and sticky. The way his cockhead was shaped and colored which was so different from the boys at the village. The wanted to memorize the uncountable little roughnesses along the ridge between his glans and shaft. How big his slit was and how wide it opened. Most especially she wanted to remember the way he felt in her hands - his weight, his girth and the delightful way it twitched out of her grip whenever she touched the right spot.

The tear turned from dew to trickle and the girl judged it would not be long until the boy squirted. It must have been the air-bender's first intimate experience. She knew it would be quick but she wanted to prolong the moment as much as possible. She wanted both to enjoy it.

She sat at the edge of the cot and motioned him to stand in front.

"Take the rest off," Katara said. Aang did not hesitate and immediately and immodestly stood naked. She saw his cock stand at attention while his sack was just a bulge at the base. "I'm going to be your first girl?"

He nodded yes.

She wrapped her arms about his waist and drew him as close as their bodies allowed. She planted a lip on his drooling, quivering lips. Then, leaning against a wall, motioned him to sit on her lap. It took a bit of adjustment as it was a new and different position for both. She sat with legs crossed like a lotus. He sat in the middle with his bare back against her naked breasts. His legs were spread wide and bent so that their feet touched. With her left hand she clutched his sack. With her right hand she grabbed a hold of his penis.

Immediately he flexed - his body from head to toe tensed and relaxed at the trickle of sensation given off by her teasing, probing fingers as they danced about his skin. She could not see, directly, how she was stroking his cock and what. She felt everything though, as he squirmed. She let his body's reactions guide her rhythm. When he shut his eyes and thrashed his head she knew she found the right pace. She gripped tighter and stroked faster. His squirm intensified; he gasped, moaned and groaned, and brought his lips to her neck. She released his sack and wrapped that arm about his chest to control his spasm.

"Aang, don't hold it back ... don't be afraid of it."

"Katara!"

Then, all of a sudden, her hand felt wet. Almost immediately after he shuddered. It was so reflexive he gasped at the shock of it. Scarcely a sound came out of his lips - only the rapid release of breath. She kept the pace of the stroke then felt another surge of wetness totally engulf her hand with its warmth. Another shiver. Another gasp. His arms tried to grasp the bed. Then tried to grasp her hands. Then settled to grasp her knees. Another jerk, a sustained quake from heat to toe, followed by a cry ended with another squirt that splattered loudly as it hit the floor.

"Oh my god," he uttered when the ability to speak returned. All of his skin changed from ashen to deep and hot shades of red. "Katara...."

She stopped. Her hand was thoroughly wet with his juice. She rubbed the underside of his glans were it was especially rough and sensitive then giggled as he begged not to stop - as he shivered again. She felt his head swell as another series of squirts were ejaculated although not as intensely.

At length, breathless, he softened and she withdrew - she left her hands atop his genitals, cradling and protecting them, all of that skin, his and hers, wet and sticky.

"Tell me I'm an incredible girl." 

"You're an incredible girl."

Aang sighed, nestled between her breasts.

Katara kissed his cheek.

"Tell me girls rule," she commanded.

"Girls rule," he obeyed.

"Good boy," she teased, squeezing his cock. "There'll be plenty of that for you."

He smiled and settled against her warmth.

She looked at her hand, smeared with his first spilt seed.

The village seemed like a faraway dream as they languished there coming down from the heights of their moment together. Katara looked at Aang - napping, curling against her body - and tried to imagine how intense it must have been to the boy that he was completely exhausted. She smiled and let his head rest between her tips.

She wanted more and more and wondered how far their forbidden play was able to go.

It was going to be a long and winding trek home but maybe, she hoped, a happy trek too.


End file.
